Chapter 5

I can totally do this.  It's just another chapter, right?  *pushes up sleeves and wades in*

Quick Summary

Okay, so we end the last chapter with Ana passing out.  She wakes up in this chapter in a hotel room, in Christian Grey's suite.  She's quite shocked to find that she's been stripped of her jeans, socks and shoes.  Be thankful girl.  Sleeping in jeans is not a fun experience.  Even better, Christian has laid out the much needed morning after pack, two advil and a glass of orange juice.  She pegs him, yet again, as a control freak.  I take umbridge at this.  That's the sign of someone who's been on the other side of the morning after.  Just say thanks and down the tablets girl.

So, tablets downed, there's a knock on the door and Christian walks in all hot and sweaty from his workout.  Gratuitous sweat soaked, hang off the hips sweatpants, sweaty haired Christian...  Sorry where was I?  Oh yes.  Um...  So I might have a thing for the image.

Anyway, Ana asks some questions and finds out that Christian cares more about his car than taking her home (given that she was covered in vomit, I can understand that), that Christian stripped her, and that they didn't have sex.  We can all breathe a sigh of relief at that.  Don't worry, the sexy times were not off screen and you didn't miss anything between the chapter break.  There's a little scolding, there's a little teasing and there are one or two dangerous hints to a darker side of Christian.

Okay, okay, so we know where Christian is taking this relationship but to the uninitiated, there are hints of a BDSM contract and spanking.  Happy now?  We get a bit of a peek behind the curtain and a little bit of foreshadowing but don't worry.  It's only foreshadowing future sex and not the mythical plot that we've been searching for like some leather grail hidden between the pages.

There's a shower scene, there's breakfast and clothes and breakfast (which Christian makes Ana eat).  We get some hints of Christian the businessman.  We also find out that Christian is not celibate.  Aren't you all happy about that?  But then we find out that Christian slept with Ana in the 'just sleeping' sense and that just sets off all my perv alarms.

Then with a final bang to the chapter Christian delivers the most romantic line in history:

“Oh, fuck the paperwork,” he growls.

and kisses the everloving crap out of her and blows her tiny little mind.

My Thoughts

I still have major issues with Ana and Christian but I'm going to set those bits aside for the moment.  Right, onto the sex and BDSM bits.  What?  I know why you'll are reading this blog.  This chapter has been the most overtly sexual so far and it had me cringing more than a little.

Okay, let's take it from the top of the chapter, shall we?  As I said in the summary, there's quite a lot of not-so-thinly-veiled references to BDSM and BDSM practices in this chapter.  The most obvious would be this:

“You’re lucky I’m just scolding you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday.[...]"

Okay, so hands up who flagged this as a spanking?  It doesn't take a rocket scientist to work out why she wouldn't be able to sit down.  I know it's a figure of speech, but do you know how hard you have to be hit for the effects to last for a week?  I'm going to go out on a fairly sturdy limb here and upgrade the spanking to the possibility of either a caning, a flogging or a whipping.  It's going to be a punishment no matter what instrument is going to be used and it's going to hurt.

What does Ana's mind immediately jump to?  The 'if you were mine'.  *sigh*  Yes, that's right.  She starts going off on a tangent on how she'd love to be his and doing an internal happy little hula dance.  Notice that she completely ignores the fact that he just said that he was going to tan her ass for her.  Priorities girl, get some!

“You are quite the disciplinarian,” I hiss at him.
“Oh, Anastasia, you have no idea.”

Truer words have never been spoken.  She's so far out of her depth that the consequences are totally flying past her head, about five feet higher than her head. 

Okay, so we've looked at the fact that she is completely clueless.  But then this happens:

“I’d like to bite that lip,” he whispers darkly. [...]
“Why don’t you?” I challenge quietly.
“Because I’m not going to touch you Anastasia - not until I have your written consent to do so.”

I've heard of a written invitation, but is that what he's saying?  I really don't think so.  And spoilers, I know what's coming and that's not what he's saying.  He's talking about a contract.  He's talking about a BDSM contract that will give him rights over Ana that she will sign and so will he.  But enough of that for now.  He's said that he's not going to touch her without written consent.  Good enough.

But a few minutes later, he says:

“Oh, fuck the paperwork,”

and kisses her anyway.  Wow, I love a man who can stick to his moral convictions.  But back a little bit.  I'm getting ahead of myself a little.  After the whole 'written consent' issue, Christian again gives us a view that it's not simply a small thing by telling Ana that once she is 'enlightened', she'll probably want to run for the hills.  Her mind goes to slavery (hah!), crime, religion and impotency.  There's a gradual incline in the slope that her mind takes so that we're left thinking that impotency is the worst possible thing in the world, much worse than child-slavery or underworld crime syndicates.  For the love of pants girl, get some priorities.  Yes, of course impotency is worse than child-slavery.  I mean, isn't it up there on the UN charter of human rights or something?  And all men shall have access to a doctor to make sure that they can get their rocks off when they need to.  It's in there buried between right to happiness (Oh yeah baby!) and right of religious expression (Oh God, Oh Jesus), yeah?  No?  Must just be my imagination then.  Oops.  Silly me.

So, after stripping her, Christian sends one of his minions out to get clothes.  The underling gets Ana underware.  Perfectly fitting underwear.  Perfectly fitting sexy underwear.  Uh huh.  That's a bit of an intimate thing to do.  So how did he know the size?  How did he know the perfect fit?  I'll come back to that later.

Anyway, Christian organises a date and boy howdy is he showing off in style.  He's got a helicopter that he's going to use to fly the distance from Ana's to Seattle.  That's exactly how I want my first date to go: loud and needing headphones to hear what the other person is saying, oh and don't forget the possibility of air traffic control listening in and watching your every shake of the rudder.

“Finish your breakfast.”
“Eat,” he says more sharply.
“I can’t eat all this.”
“Eat what’s on your plate.”
[...]
“Good girl,” he says.

Wow, patronising or what?  Oh my God, Christian, way to reveal the daddy kink.  Guys, never, ever do this.  It's wrong on so many levels.  Okay, seriously, I know that there are some people in the world who get off on being appetite controlled (i.e. having someone say what and how much they are allowed to eat) but for the love of trousers, stop it.  You sound like you're talking to a child, not an, arguably, grown, if still blissfully naive, twenty-something year old woman.  You eat what's on your plate.  You haven't made any committments to her.  Saving her from her own drunken foolishness does not entitle you to tell her what to eat.  I mean...  Really?

And then we get to the really, really screwy bit:

“Where did you sleep last night?” I turn to gaze at him still sitting in the dining room chair. I can’t see any blankets or sheets out here – perhaps he’s had them tidied away.
“In my bed,” he says simply, his gaze impassive again.
“Oh.”
“Yes, it was quite a novelty for me too.” He smiles.
“Not having… sex.” There – I said the word. I blush – of course.
“No,” he shakes his head and frowns as if recalling something uncomfortable. “Sleeping with someone.” He picks up his newspaper and continues to read.
What in heaven’s name does that mean? [...] And it dawns on me that I have slept with Christian Grey.

Let's just pause for a moment here.  Christian Grey has a suite in the hotel and isn't shy about flaunting his money around, but instead of getting a cot sent up or sleeping on the couch, he crawls in beside a woman he barely knows and goes to sleep.  As a woman, I find that so totally creepy that I would be out of there so fast that I'd set the carpet on fire.  It's one thing for her to say that it's okay to sleep in the same bed, but for him to just do it sets off so many of my creep factor alarms that I really, really am not comfortable with Christian's character.  Okay, so maybe it's a deep and dark kink of the authors but that's just a little too close to uncomfortable for me.  I mean, she says that nothing happened, but seriously, apart from his word, how can you tell?

You can't.

He stripped your jeans off you because they were supposedly covered in vomit - awesome - which leaves you in your panties.  Have you checked to make sure that nothing was touched?  How can you tell?  He could have had a quick fumble around, but because of his sterling character traits (have you seen them yet?  need to borrow my magnifying glass?) we're just going to take his word for it. Maybe that's how they knew exactly how big she was.  Christian and his minion had a good grope around under the covers and sized Ana up for smalls.  What?  You can't say it didn't happen because we don't know what happened during those intervening hours.  But it's just supposition.

Honestly, if he told us that he took the couch, I'd be a lot more forgiving of his character.  I was starting to warm up to him and then he drops a clanger like this.

Boys, sit down a second.  I want to tell you something.  If you pull a white knight moment and save her from getting snogged to death by a guy who can't take no for an answer, don't follow it up immediately by hopping into bed with her while she's unconscious and then just relying on your word that you didn't have a quick fumble with her while she was unconscious.  And yes, we will worry about that the second we find out that you've done something like that.  Unless you have a history with the girl of more than five minutes and she trusts you and invites you in, don't hop into bed with her.  Couches aren't that uncomfortable.  Cots aren't that uncomfortable.  Ring room service, spring for the $20 it'll take to get a set of extra blankets.  Hell, you're Christian fucking Grey, they won't charge you bupkiss for it.  Sleep somewhere else.

Rant kinda over for now.   Let's talk toothbrushes.

Um...  Ew.  She used his toothbrush.  This is my squick but I just shivered all over when I read that she was using his toothbrush.  Apart from being a stupid, irresponsible thing to do, just no!  Do you know where it was?  Do you know he doesn't use it to clean the fluff from his bum?  Nope!  Err on the side of caution.  Use your finger and a shedload of toothpaste like the rest of us.  Mouthwash too if you can (or the old fashioned trick of toothpaste and a mouthful of water if he doesn't have any), but don't use someone else's toothbrush.  Ew!!

And now we're back to the most romantic line ever said in a romance novel:

“Oh, fuck the paperwork,” he growls. He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. Before I know it, he’s got both of my hands in one of his in a vice-like grip above my head, and he’s pinning me to the wall using his hips. Holy shit. His other hand grabs my ponytail and yanks down, bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. It’s only just not painful. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. He takes full
advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I have never been kissed like this. My tongue tentatively strokes his and joins his in a slow erotic dance that’s all about touch and sensation, all bump and grind. He brings his hand up to grasp my chin and holds me in place. I am helpless, my hands pinned, my face held, and his hips restraining me. . I feel his erection against my belly. Oh my… He wants me. Christian Grey, Greek god, wants me, and I want him, here… now, in the elevator.

Oh, fuck the paperwork.  Have more special words ever been spoken?

"I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough." - The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks

 Or

“You and I, it’s as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught.”  Doctor Zhivago, Boris Pasternack

Or

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you." Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne

Nah, I'm going to go with 'Fuck the paperwork' as my all time classic romance line.  Why yes, it bugs me.  I mean...  Seriously?  That was the best you could come up with?

Also, lets look at the first kiss.  He pins her hands above her head, yanks on her hair and kisses her.  And what does she say about it? 'I have never been kissed like this.'  No shit, darling.  That's gotta be a first, given your oh so magnificant history of kisses.  Lets see, there's José and...  Nope, that's it.  Again, are you telling us that you've done something with someone before?  Because if you are, just come out and say it.

Okay, everything about this screams dominance, I'll give her that.  Pinned to a wall, unable to move with Christian in a superior position to her.  It's dominance, and Christian gets off on that.  Well, that's what we have to assume given that he's got a boner pressed into her belly.  Just how big is he anyway that it's pressing into your belly?  Are we talking salami sized here or is he just that tall (and Ana that short)...?

But, thankfully for Ana, she seems to like it, or if she doesn't like it, she seems to like Christian enough to let him have his domineering way with her.

[..] my very small inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba.

Stop it.  Stop it right now.  Your inner goddess needs to grow the fuck up and stop referring to herself as an inner goddess.  That phrase gets right up my moon.  It's rapidly outshining (pun intended) LKH's beauty:

She glowed like she swallowed the sun.

Seriously, people, if you find yourself writing something like that.  Stop.  Put the keyboard down and grab a bottle of vodka.  You'll write much better afterwards.  Trust me.  It doesn't get much worse than 'inner goddess'.  Besides, if you have low self esteem, you're not going to call your mini-me a goddess.  

Okay, so I have an idea where the book is going sex-wise now and so far, I'm pretty much unimpressed.  Even more unimpressed than I was with the cable ties and natural fibre rope.

But... There is tea and cake resting on me finishing the book.  I'm up to page 58 of 356.  Just under 300 to go...  Who's got the cyanide?